


Small Talk

by errantknightess



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Humor, Mostly Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantknightess/pseuds/errantknightess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vlad and Agnes discuss the nature of their relationship. Perdita chips in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DracoMaleficium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoMaleficium/gifts).



> Requested in LJ meme.

The door thudded shut. Agnes shuddered. It’s just the wind, she thought. It’s just that chilly mountain air sneaking in through the window, playing with the curtains and making the candle light flicker tritely.

“Oh, yes, it _is_ so cliché, isn’t it?”, said Vlad from right behind her. “I mean, all these candles and torches – they don’t really give any light. And those draughts… surely, they build _climate_ : a very frigid one, I would say,” he smiled carefully, trying not to bare his fangs.

 _Don’t let him talk you down!_ Perdita’s voice pricked like a needle inside Agnes’s head. For a wink of an eye, Vlad’s smile melted in a consternated expression, but the vampire quickly masked it with a dashing gesture.

“Please, sit down,” he pointed to an armchair beside the fireplace. “I know there is much bad blood between us, but it is not impossible to fix it, I hope.”

 _That was tasteless_ , Perdita carped. Agnes gave her a mental nudge: At least he’s _trying_.

“Thank you for noticing,” Vlad’s grin widened. “People rarely do. Of course we do make great efforts! You have no idea how hard it is to eradicate all those nonsensical superstitions.”

 _It’s like getting blood out of a stone, I guess._ And who’s being tasteless now, Agnes thought back.

“Excuse me?”, Vlad raised his eyebrows. “Nevermind, it must have been the wind. Those draughts, I swear… Aren’t you cold?”, he turned to Agnes so abruptly that she started in her armchair.

“Not really,” she stammered out. “The fire is rather pleasant.” _And you’re making a lot of hot air_ , added Perdita at the very back of her head.

Vlad started to pace around the chamber. Agnes’s eyes followed him closely, though she was almost sure it was Perdita’s doing. The vampire finally placed himself at the window, scenically framed by the moonlight.

“You are a truly fascinating woman, Miss Nitt,” he started. “I wonder how many times I’d said that already. Not very talkative, admittedly, but you set more and more mysteries with every word you say.”

_To the meat of it! Or perhaps you’re not hungry?_

“Oh, cut it out already! I mean, uh, why exactly are we having this conversation?”

“I wish I could call it a conversation,” replied Vlad, raising one corner of his mouth, “but sadly, that requires a contribution from the other party, and you’ve hardly used your sweet voice yet.”

“What is it that you want?”, asked Agnes wearily. “You already know you won't gain me over, so why bother?”

Vlad didn’t move, gazing out the window with a distanced look in his eyes.

“Just like with _The Castle of Örtchen_ ,” he sighed absent-mindedly. “Oh,” he took in, seeing the uncomprehending expression on Agnes’s face. “You’re not much into literature down here, are you?” He settled himself more comfortably at the windowsill and went on in an ardent tone.

“See, there is that book, _The Castle of Örtchen_ , a fine reading piece, very popular in my parts. It’s filled with unfortunate lovers, spectres and colossal armour. We like to immerse ourselves in such things in the long winter evenings – you know, they tend to drag on particularly nastily if you live for so long… However,” Vlad’s sight escaped once again towards the dark landscape, “most of people usually miss the point of this book. They look for things which aren’t there – which never were to be there to begin with. And this exactly, my dear Agnes, is the problem with you,” Vlad turned away from the window and began to stride around the chamber.

“You look into things too much. You, for instance, would always assume a giant gauntlet falling on someone must have a cause and a purpose,” he continued, drawing closer and closer to Agnes. “Whereas for me, such things merely happen, especially in an ancient castle of walls hung with armory, and there is nothing more to it than the amusement of seeing whoever chanced to stand in the feral spot.”

Agnes listened attentively. Inside her head, Perdita could have blown a bugle and wave flag signals, with the same lack of effect.

“My point is,” Vlad appeared right behind the backrest and bent closely to her ear, “things don’t need to _mean_ anything. I am only having this conversation for pleasure, Miss Nitt. Are you?”, he added, facing her suddenly and offering his hand.

Agnes accepted it. Perdita dashed the bugle to the ground and tore up the flags.

“That's absurd. Of course things always _mean_ something,” thought Agnes as the candles burned out. “It’s just that sometimes they mean simply… _things_.”


End file.
